


Needs Must (When the Devil Drives)

by enigmaticblue



Series: S6 Tags Series [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-24
Updated: 2011-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:23:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel understands that there are times when needs compel action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needs Must (When the Devil Drives)

Castiel is weary with a bone-deep exhaustion that isn’t physical. He isn’t a physical being; he’s a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. But Castiel has found that he doesn’t necessarily need a physical form to feel fatigue, or sorrow, or pain.

 

Or love, he reminds himself. Or camaraderie.

 

In the quiet moments he steals with Dean, Castiel finds reason to hope—and if something happens to him, if he loses his life, Castiel finds comfort in the knowledge that he will have that much.

 

And so, Castiel leaves heaven for earth in between one battle and the next. He knows he doesn’t have much time; Raphael’s forces have been pressing in hard lately.

 

He finds Dean in a dive bar, sitting in a shadowy corner. As Castiel crosses to join Dean, his shoes stick to the concrete floor. He smells stale beer and liquor and unwashed bodies, and while the odors are not entirely pleasant, he finds that he enjoys the opportunity to use his senses.

 

Dean doesn’t so much as glance up when Castiel slides into the other side of the booth; he just takes another sip from the glass of amber liquid in front of him. Castiel can feel Dean’s unrest, and he glances around. Sam is nowhere to be seen, and Castiel suspects that Dean has sent his brother away for the evening.

 

“Do you want me to leave?” Castiel asks.

 

In reply, Dean waves at the waitress making the rounds. “Let the lady know what you want to drink, Cas.”

 

“A beer please,” Castiel orders. “Whatever you have on tap.” Castiel knows what to say; he’s been out drinking with Dean in the past.

 

“Do you want anything else, honey?” the waitress asks Dean.

 

“Bring the bottle?”

 

She nods. “Sure thing. Be right back.”

 

“Where’s Sam tonight?” Castiel asks once she has gone.

 

Dean shrugs. “Researching our next case. I told him I needed some time.”

 

“But you don’t mind if I stay?”

 

“No, you’re fine.” Dean dredges up a smile. “Thanks for stopping by.”

 

Castiel accepts the cold glass of beer from the returning waitress. “Thank you.”

 

She puts the bottle on the table along with a second shot glass. “I thought your friend might want to share.”

 

Dean nods his thanks.

 

“What happened, Dean?” Castiel asks gently.

 

“My past caught up with me,” Dean replies.

 

Castiel isn’t sure what that means, but he knows that Dean will either fill in the details or he won’t.

 

“Ben called me,” Dean says abruptly. “He said it was an emergency, and there was something wrong with Lisa.”

 

“And there wasn’t.”

 

“He wanted to get us back together, and I can’t blame him.”

 

Castiel knows Dean well, and he observes, “You miss them.”

 

“We had a good thing for a while, but if I had stayed, Ben would have wound up just like me.”

 

“There are worse fates,” Castiel murmurs.

 

Dean snorts. “Yeah, like what? I want Ben to have a life.”

 

Castiel doesn’t know how to respond. He understands how deep Dean’s self-loathing runs; he’s known from the beginning that Dean doesn’t think himself worthy of salvation, or of love.

 

Dean slams back the rest of his drink and refills his glass. “Ben doesn’t understand, but I had to leave. There wasn’t another choice.”

 

Castiel understands that there are times when needs compel actions, and when duty requires doing something distasteful.

 

“You have to do what you believe is right,” Castiel offers. “You always do.”

 

“Not always,” Dean demurs, but there’s a pleased smile hovering around the corners of his mouth.

 

“Would you go back if you could?” Castiel asks.

 

Dean becomes very still, and he keeps his eyes on the table. “I don’t know. I guess I’m glad I don’t have to make that choice.” Then Dean looks up, and Castiel realizes that Dean doesn’t want to have to choose between Lisa and _him_.

 

Castiel remains silent as Dean continues drinking, growing steadily more intoxicated. Dean doesn’t stop until the bottle is empty, and when he rises, Dean weaves unsteadily.

 

“I parked at the motel,” Dean slurs.

 

“Then I will get you back to the motel,” Castiel replies. As soon as they’re outside the bar, he flies them both to the Impala, which is parked in front of a weather beaten, one-story motel.

 

“Sam’s back,” Dean notes. “There’s a light on.”

 

“Very well. I will leave you with him.”

 

“No.” Dean grips Castiel’s trench coat. “The room might not be available, but the car is.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel begins.

 

“Cas. Please.”

 

Castiel considers Dean’s request for a moment, but he craves Dean’s touch; he needs the human contact. “There is another place we can go.”

 

Between one breath and another, Castiel transports them to the abandoned house where he and Dean had last spent the night together. He knows that it’s empty, and that there’s a bed, and those are the only two things that matter right now.

 

Dean is uncoordinated, his fingers clumsy, and Castiel pushes Dean back on the bed. “I’ll take care of it,” Castiel insists. “Hold still.”

 

He undresses Dean with rough care, and then removes his own clothing. Castiel spreads Dean out on the bed and runs his hands up Dean’s legs, squeezing the muscles of Dean’s thighs. Castiel brushes a kiss against Dean’s jaw, against the skin of Dean’s neck, and traces one of Dean’s nipples with his tongue.

 

Dean lets out a strangled moan. “Cas.”

 

“Hush,” Castiel replies and begins to take Dean apart with his fingers and his tongue. With a thought, the small tube of lubricant he’s taken to keeping in his pocket is in his hand, and as Castiel swallows Dean’s cock, he begins to work Dean open with his fingers.

 

Dean writhes on the bed, his hands in Castiel’s hair, and Castiel spreads his hand out on Dean’s abdomen, holding him still. Dean tries to buck, to push back onto Castiel’s fingers, but Castiel holds him, careful to restrain his considerable strength.

 

He doesn’t want to hurt Dean, but Castiel does want to demonstrate exactly what he’s capable of—exactly what Dean is worth.

 

Castiel sucks and swallows, thrusts and twists his fingers, keeping the same rhythm, until Dean comes with a long cry.

 

Dean’s hands reach for him, pulling Castiel up so that he’s sprawled on top of Dean. He and Dean slot together like two pieces of a puzzle, and Castiel thrusts against Dean’s thigh, seeking the contact he needs. He can smell sweat and semen, and Castiel pushes his face against Dean’s sweat-damp neck.

 

Dean grips Castiel’s hips and just lets Castiel thrust until the tension coils so tightly it breaks, and breaks hard.

 

Castiel holds onto Dean tightly, and he never wants to let go. Dean runs a hand through Castiel’s hair and traces the shell of Castiel’s ear.

 

“Let’s just stay here for a bit,” Dean says.

 

Castiel presses his lips against Dean’s shoulder in reply.


End file.
